These Imprints on My Skin
by LunagaleMaster
Summary: "It turned out that Danny had forgotten to pack the extra set of clothes in his bag. He would later find them on his dresser, neatly folded by his mother after he had left them thrown haphazardly on the couch earlier in the day... And so with no alternative, Danny Fenton spent the school day in his death day suit." A what if at the end of "13". Will now be continued.
1. These Imprints on My Skin

I made a thing when I should have been writing CoaSP... (shrugs).

Warning: PTSD and mentions of death

Timeline: The ending of the episode "13"

And with that, let's begin!

Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom. All rights go to Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. Please support the official release.

* * *

 **[i][i][i]** T **hese Imprints on My Skin [i][i][i]**

They were staring at him. He could feel it, and it wasn't just the crowd around him. Sam's and Tucker's were on him too. Even so, it wasn't the staring that bothered him. Their looks were nothing at this point compared the nearly crippling nerves shaking his shoulders, fingers, toes, and just about every part of this body to the point that he was surprised he didn't look like a vibrating mess.

Danny bit his lip and closed his eyes, trying to ground himself, even as his skin crawled from the rubbery feeling stretching over his skin.

"Bye Danny! Have a nice day at school! Make us proud Fentons, son!"

The Fenton RV boomed away, leaving only Danny standing there, shuffling nervously. Hundreds of eyes watched him, waiting for something to happen.

Only two of them looked at him with a mix pity and apprehension.

"Danny…" Sam started to say. Her throat sounded dry.

He interrupted her quickly, "I know, it's…" Blue eyes cracked open and looked down at the hazmat suit, "Just… please. I brought another change of clothes to change in to. I…" Danny gripped his backpack tighter, not really able to put his mushed up feelings into words.

Tucker started to say something, maybe a reassurance. Who knew? A large arm wrapping roughy around his shoulder and a brutish voice interrupted their conversation, unwelcomed, unneeded. Danny looked up at Dash with dread.

"Hey Fenton!" The bully said with a smirk, "Nice outfit. Joining your family of freaks?" When Danny didn't respond, Dash whacked him hard across the back with enough force to send him sprawling on the ground. As Danny's friends came rushing to his aid, Dash only chuckled with his teammates, the sound ugly and cruel.

"Be careful Fenton," Dash called back, as he and his groupies started filing into the building, "you don't want to get your pretty white outfit dirty, huh?"

His group disappeared into the school, but the bully's words were heavy on Danny's heart.

Danny bit his lip, and, after brushing off bits of grime and dirt, stared at his black gloved hands (he didn't want to look at the endless, pale white). They were familiar yet oh so different from Phantom's. Same shape, same size, but he guessed the different color and lack of energy brought an entirely different feel to them. Unlike the feel of a second skin he had come to know, these felt unnatural, weird, and just plain _wrong_ in a way that made something deep inside him sick. It took all his self-control not to whip the things off his hands and throw them as far, far possible as he could and then some.

The rest of the white and black hazmat suit fit similarly. The feeling of wrongness, even more so.

"I thought the suit disappeared when you went in," Tucker suddenly said. Sam swatted his arm, but Danny knew she was just as baffled. Her inquisitive purple eyes asked silent questions.

Danny shrugged and trudged forward, just wanting to get the day over and done with and get rid of his pressure in his chest and the never ending nerves prickling in his brain and the shivers crawling under his skin and-

"It did." Danny mumbled, his fingers clenching at the backpack, "Dad had... multiple of them."

The nerves passed through all three of them in a way. Tucker and Sam with flashing memories of screams blaring in the back of their minds. Danny, the feeling of electrocution and the brief numbness that made bile burn in his throat. It threatened to rise and overcome him, amplifying his already overactive nerves and infecting his chest with that not so long ago memory of numbness.

It wasn't until they got to Danny's locker did Tucker mutter, "Oh."

Danny snorted, not really looking at them, "Yeah...oh."

They didn't speak of the hazmat suit again.

It turned out that Danny had forgotten to pack the extra set of clothes in his bag. He would later find them on his dresser, neatly folded by his mother after he had left them thrown haphazardly on the couch earlier in the day.

And so with no alternative, Danny Fenton spent the school day in his death day suit.

* * *

AN: Word Count: 707 (Not including intro, outro, or title)

Critiques are loved! Tell me what you liked, disliked, or thought was just plain too weird. All comments are loved and appreciated, critiques even more so.

I just had a thought while reading a fic, "If Jack and Maddie had tons of hazmat suits, why didn't they have tons of them for Danny and Jazz?" And so this was born out of the ending of "13." Huzzah for angst!

Thanks for reading. I hope you enjoyed. See you next time!

~LunagaleMaster


	2. The Marks That I've Made

AN: (Looks at reviews. Looks at you guys. Looks back to reviews and then back to you guys.) You lovely little monsters. This is your fault. This was fully intended to be a oneshot. (Points dramatically) AND THEN YOU GUYS IN THE REVIEWS. YOU GUYS GAVE ME IDEAS. YOU GUYS ARE WONDERFUL EVIL LITTLE BUGGERS.

Ahem. So anyway, this is now a mult-chapter thing. (Throws confetti). I have no idea how long this series is going to be. It's looking like a four shot. Who knows? How does one do chapters for a story like this? All I know is that I have ideas. So many ideas. And it's your guy's faults.

Enjoy the next part you wonderful little devils.

 _Psst. If you guys have suggestions for what you want to see, leave it in the reviews. Okay. I'm done, let's go._

Disclaimer: I don't own Danny Phantom. All rights go to Butch Hartman and Nickelodeon. Please support the official release.

* * *

 **[i][i][i]The Marks that I've Made[i][i][i]**

Danny jogged down the hallway, slightly huffing and more than a little bit annoyed. With only five minutes in between classes, he had to dart in between the bodies of the other students. Absently, he imagined their faces, some surprised, others annoyed, some of them probably one stage away from pure rage.

Of course, there was something new in this usual routine. Like some sort of show, some snickered while others simply stared. Their voices just adding into the chaos of the hallways.

Danny was split been wanting to hide under a rock and calling them out on it.

To be fair, the staring wasn't so bad. It was silent, easily ignored. Unless it was a ghost with laser beam eyes, stalking looks weren't exactly dangerous. Just..uncomfortable. Considering how uncomfortable he already felt (he didn't want to consider how much of an understatement that was), a couple (hundred) people watching him and his practical flashlight white suit wasn't in his top ten things he needed to worry about.

The whispering though? That was harder to ignore.

But he did it. It wasn't like there was much else he could do. He had more important things to worry about like ignoring how the rubber of his jumpsuit clung to his skin. Or ignoring how it felt like there were pin pricks nipping at him everywhere. Or ignoring how nauseous he felt, or Tucker's and Sam's looks between each other (because oh, yeah, he saw their worried looks), or just… pretty much everything.

There were a lot of things Danny tried to ignore that day. He was better at pretending he was good at ignoring things than actually ignoring them.

As he turned down one last hallway, he mentally recounted what he needed to get from his locker. Three periods down and four and a half more to go. Lunch usually was a reprieve from everything, but Danny had a feeling the time would be just as irritating as the rest of the day.

He was debating just skipping lunch and flying off some stress.

As he turned, he noted the band kids. They stared. He ignored them. The same deal as usual he supposed. Except… not really. Not today.

His locker was a hotspot of hot spit and loud band equipment. However, despite the conditions, it was at least semi-tolerable. Just turn his back, ignore their ramblings, and just get a few things out of his locker before class started. Simple and painless.

Just not today.

Today, Danny gritted his teeth, as soon as he turned his back, the three nerds started whispering behind him. He only caught a few words, but when said words were "Fenton," "Suit," and "Weird," it was easy enough to get the big picture.

Danny counted to ten, waiting to see if they would stop. When it was clear that shuffling his books around in his backpack only made them talk louder ("Wow, I wonder if he has a mental illness or something from his parents. That would explain so much.") he slammed his locker door harshly, whipping around and looking at them dead in the eyes. He didn't know whether or not he should feel guilty about making them jump.

He eyed the three of them with irritation. The three nerds, a little red head with glasses (Mikey?), a fat dude he'd only seen once or twice with a not-tuba-but-totally-a-tuba instrument he wasn't carrying around for once, and some black haired east Asian kid he didn't care to recognize, were frozen stiff, wide eyed and obviously scared. They practically held on to each other for safety, the east Asian kid going as far as to throw his arms around the red head's neck.

Okay, yeah. He did feel slightly guilty about this (But what else was new?). Not so much to damper his growing irritation, however.

When the three of them did nothing but gawk at him, Danny sighed and practically growled out, "What? Are you not gonna say something to my face?"

Again, they didn't speak, though the fat kid looked about thirty seconds away from hyperventilating. The pin pricks poking at his body started growing into an irritating buzz, and he had to let his fingers curl to keep them from twitching. Though he couldn't stop his foot from tapping or the slight twitching in his left eye or the way he felt his face turn into a rough scowl. His entire body felt cold, and he was practically shivering from head to toe, and these kids, these cowardly kids did nothing to make him feel better.

It wasn't until he noticed their pale faces and their eyes darting between his face and his fist did Danny realize how he must look.

Scowl falling, he bit his lip and looked away from them, shame rising up in his chest, melting some of the cold that was there.

It… it wasn't their fault he felt so angry. It wasn't them, it was him and this stupid, stupid jumpsuit, irritating his skin, crawling all over him, and stinging him at every possible-

"Whatever," He said, and he turned away from them to trudge to his next class, "Just… leave me alone." Danny swung his backpack over his shoulders, quickly putting it on and just trying to get far, far away from them and their scared faces.

He was about halfway down the hall when a squeaky voice called out, "Cop-pying Phantom doesn't make you cooler. Fe-Fe-Fenton!"

Danny froze midstep, his eyes widening fully as his heart seemed to skip a beat. The numbness in his chest suddenly grew and grew, and he whipped around so fast that it couldn't be natural. The three nerds yelped, jumping back in shock.

Their stand off lasted only a second, ending when the fat kid piped up, "Ye-yeah, Mikey's right," He stuttered. He snuck behind Mikey's back, the small kid's torso only able to hide half of the larger's body, "We-we see how look, Fenton. You can't hide anything from us. You're trying to look cool by wearing Phantom's colors!"

"Inverted colors," The last kid whispered, still clinging onto Mikey's neck, "At the very least." He wouldn't look Danny in the eyes.

They were waiting for an answer from him, probably. Maybe a "you got me!" or a sharp denial.

What they hadn't expected was the unbidden laugh that shout out of his throat. The sound was pulled free from the cold numbness in his chest, sounding hysteric and unnatural. When the numbness broken, a chill spread from his chest and slithered across his entire body. Goosebumps dotted his arms and legs, and it wasn't until the cold became too much to handle that Danny stopped laughing, the sound slowly sputtering to a dull whine.

The halfa looked at the ground, shivering, skin scrawling. The irony of it all was just… just… he huffed a laugh again. To be cool? How?

Shaking his head, Danny reached his hand up to the back of his neck, expecting skin on skin contact, rough hairs, maybe even a bit of sweat. He froze when instead he only felt the dull pain of rubber rubbing skin and the sharper pain of the little hairs of his neck clinging stubbornly to the resulting static.

He swallowed and slowly brought his hand down. The slithering cold had suddenly settled, leaving only biting frost in his veins.

Danny didn't know how long he had been standing there. Not too long he knew. Even though when he looked back up at the nerds and saw that they were gone, he could see figure out he hadn't been out of it for too long.

After all, he could still hear the nerds' terrified shouts of "freak" echoing down the off-white walls.

* * *

AN: Word Count: 1,293 words (not including intro, outro, or title)

Critiques are loved! Tell what you liked! Tell me what you disliked! Also guys important: **This is going to be a prompt story. If you guys have a prompt you want me to do with this scenario, I may do it if I get inspiration from it.** _(Though note: there isn't a guarantee I will write about it)._ Leave any and all ideas that you have, no matter how big or small. The more you put down, the more I'll write of this.

I had a couple of reviews ask me where I thought of this concept... to be perfectly honest it was mostly me being salty about DP's lack of continuity. In canon, Maddie and Jack have tons of extra jumpsuits to use, but my question is... why didn't they make a ton of extra suits for Danny and Jazz? Considering how excited they are at any mention of their kids wanting to ghost hunt, you'd think they would have tons of suits prepared for them. Danny had his own suit but apparently Jazz doesn't? It makes me mad, and I got salty, so I wanted to write a thing where Danny had his suit during "13"... it just so happened to turn to angst XD

Anyway, thanks for reading guys! Tell me what you think! Give me prompts! If you want, even tell me how your day was. See you next time!

~LunagaleMaster


	3. How These Feelings Culminate

Me, looking through my WIPS: Oh, yeah! These Imprints was a thing. (dusts off chapter 3) Oh, man wonder if I can finish this chapter after having zero progress for six months lmao

Me, an hour later, with the chapter edited and finished: ...holy shit I didn't actually it would happen

(Seriously though, four of five-ish pages have been done and edited for like four months. It was only the last page that I had trouble with and I knocked that out in thirty minutes, edited it, rewrote some parts, and just looked back and went... wait I actually updated this?)

Thanks for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy my dudes!

Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom. All rights go to Nickelodeon. Please support the official release.

* * *

 **[i][i][i]How These Feelings Culminate[i][i][i]**

Gossip was like raindrops.

 _"What a loser."_

At first, someone may not notice it entirely. Sure, there was this underlying feeling of oddness and a few obvious signs might rear its heads, but mostly, they could live their life without being impeded in any sort of way.

 _"Yeah, do you see what he's wearing?"_

However, over time, the signs were harder to ignore.

Whispering gossip was just the same as relentless rain tapping against their skin, turning buzzing to rumbling, as tiny specks slowly turned to heavy glops. From here annoyance would start brimming. Not too much. After all, rain was only natural and while one would get a little wet, it wasn't like they couldn't easily get dry, and words?

Ha. Just plug your ears or talk louder to drown out the noise. Easy.

 _"Yeah… and just in general."_

But then there was a point where gossip would stop simply being gossip and raindrops would combine, attacking the world in a furious storm.

A storm. A horrible, world breaking storm. A storm where, as one trudges through the relentless, comfortless plain the rain keep pounding into their skin, drenching them clear to the bone in a matter of seconds and even when they try to find cover they can't seem to find a way to convince themself to keep going long enough to become safe. Yet at the same time, safety is all they crave. Warmth, care and that feeling of relentless pressure to just ease for one moment and just let them breathe fresh air. As the buzzing of lightning crackles the air and electrifies their skin, they can't help but think, "this is it. I can't go any farther."

 _"...Let's spill something on it and see if it stains."_

And the pressure increases, as the storm whirls around them, wind whistling mocking tunes, as the pounding rain shatters their spirit and floods their insides with the unmistakable feeling of helplessness against powers they can't even begin to understand.

This is the feeling of the world against you. This is the feeling of helplessness.

 _"Nah, dude, it's rubber. You can't put shit on rubber and expect it to anything."_

This was what Danny was feeling, as he trudged through the day. Specifically, at the moment, as he couldn't help but listen to two jocks (who he didn't even know) chatter amongst themselves.

"Hey, are you okay?" Tucker asked, concern in his voice.

Danny blinked stupidly, his concentration scattering everywhere before settling to Tucker. Flushing in embarrassment, he stared pointedly down at a weird little mark on the corner of his lunch tray,

"Perfectly fine," he said with gritted teeth.

"Really?" Sam's incredulity was practically tangible.

Danny grit his teeth harder, "Yep."

His friends gave each other _that_ look. It was that same look they had when Danny tried to tell them to stop fighting ghost with him for the first time, a strange mix of concern and exasperation with a tinge of what he could only consider telepathy. Now that he thought about it, Jazz had that look often.

As the three of them slid down the lunch line, trays in hand, Sam eyed him dangerous, "Well, Mr. Perfectly Fine," She commented dryly, "you might want to pretend that you're okay before you claim to be perfect."

Tucker snorted, "Yeah, what did that tray ever do to you?"

"What are you-...oh," Looking down, Danny could see that he had his tray in a death grip. He pushed away that rising coldness. He didn't want to deal with it, and instead focus on pretending everything was okay. Slowly he stretched his finger, pressing his lips when he felt the slight ache in the strained muscles.

It wasn't hard to see the imprints in the slight cheap plastic, nor was it hard to miss both Sam's and Tucker's widening eyes.

Danny was sure if it wasn't for the fact they were already at the front of the line, the two would have bombarded him with a volley of something resembling reassurances. Thankfully, there was time for Danny to collect himself between bringing out ruffled dollars and standing awkwardly, as one of the dispassionate cafeteria workers slowly took their lunch money and made them go their way.

As the trio rumbled to their seats, the jocks standing behind them snickered loudly,

"Ignore them, Danny," Sam commented ever so helpfully, Right. Like Danny wanted to hear them. Or anyone for that matter. All Danny wanted to do was hide in under a rock and pretend nothing was wrong.

Actually, no. All Danny wanted to do was go home, burn his jumpsuit, and then jump in his shower. Preferably a steaming one where he could barely feel his skin. If he used enough water, maybe he wouldn't have to feel cold ever again.

But hiding under a rock until the end of the day was a good, temporary solution, one he would totally take advantage of if it wasn't for his already dismal attendance.

Tucker and Sam tried to talk to him, or at least, they tried to reel him into their conversation in hopes of eventually opening up. He knew their tricks, and he didn't appreciate them at the moment. He grit his teeth and sped up in his steps, ignoring the way Sam huffed loudly at him. He didn't stop moving, couldn't, and he just needed one second to get his bearings together before the two finally grilled him.

He was so busy internalizing everything, he didn't recognize his external surroundings. Mainly, he didn't realize he dumped all of his lunch onto Dash's chest until the tray clattered to the floor, as the jock held him up with his fists.

"What's the big idea, Fenton? What you think you get special treatment today because you scared a couple nerds?" Dash scoffed. A dark smirk rose on his face, and he lifted Danny higher in the air, "I'm going to enjoy this one, Fenton."

It may have been the lack of air, or the eyes continuing to drill into his skull. Distantly, he heard Sam and Tucker shouting for him. Someone else too, maybe Valerie? He didn't know. His brain felt fuzzy, his chest tight, but he didn't feel the need to laugh. Something dark boiled in his stomach, and as he glared at Dash, he felt it rise to the surface.

"Fine," he spat, "hit me."

Dash paused in his punch. The idiot's face twisted in confusion. "What are you on, Fenton?"

"I said, hit me," Danny hissed, his grip tightened on Dash's hand, fingernails clawing at the jock's fist, "See if I care. You'll hurt me. You'll hurt someone else. You'll just keep doing it again and again, so I might as well get it over with."

Dash's eyes widened, and his eyes darted around the room. When they landed back on Danny, he looked at him oddly, and to his surprise, he felt himself being slowly lowered down. "Look, man, I don't-"

The dark feeling burned deeper in his stomach. "What? You're not going to do it!? What now that I'm calling you out, you're just going to take it?!" He heard his voice rising, even with the blood roaring in his ears. He nodded to Dash's jacket. "I hurt you. Now you hurt me. It's only fair, right? It's only normal, a fair trade." He huffed a laugh under his breath and finished with a mumble, "...Only fair."

Dash dropped him back to the floor. Even with his boots on, he could feel the cafeteria mush splattered on the ground. The jock was staring at him like he was an animal about to attack. He slowly backed away, eyed wide and face twisted in confusion. He swiftly grabbed his backpack off the floor, but his eyes never left Danny's.

"You really are a freak, F-f-fenturd," his voice trembled, afraid… of Danny.

The anger rose up in Danny's throat. "Come on! Really? That's it?" he took a step forward, eyes burning, throat burning, everything fiery, and he realized the heat was just as bad as the cold. Cold made him focus, but fire just made everything blurry and hard to think. Everything was too small for how big he felt, choking, burning on his own emotions.

"Danny!" He swerved around, abruptly, fists clenched, ready to fight-

Only to meet the concerned expressions of his friends. The two looked at him with wide eyes; Sam's mouth was agape, Tucker's shoulder's trembling.

Suddenly, he was aware of the stares again.

He twisted around the room, eyes wide and growing wider as the noticed the crowd just _looking_ at him. They just kept looking and looking, whispering to themselves, some snickered like this was some joke, while others backed away like Dash. Their gazes felt like buzzing against his skin, and their whispers hissed in his mind. It was like a physical wall of feelings surrounded him, boxing him in and making it impossible to breath.

"Danny?"

He needed to get out. He couldn't stay here. Not like this. If he stayed, he didn't know what was going to happen, and he needed to get himself together before he actually hurt someone with whatever fucked up things were going on with his emotions.

So he turned away from the crowd and _ran_.

He wasn't aware if he was invisible. He didn't know if Sam and Tucker tried to call out to him. Everything just felt distant, a faint buzzing compared to the screaming in his head. He needed to breath, to get out and stop drowning in this sea of people.

If gossip was like raindrops, Danny was sure he was drowning in his own head.

* * *

Word Count: 1614 (not counting intro, outro, or title)

"But hiding under a rock until the end of the day was a good, temporary solution, one he would totally take advantage of if it wasn't for his already dismal attendance." Is the most Danny line I've ever written.

Anyway! Thanks for reading! Tell me what you liked. Tell me what you disliked. Tell me something weird. Hope you enjoyed, my dudes!

See you next time,

Lunagalemaster~


End file.
